Harry Potter and the Chariots of light
by Dawrina
Summary: In Harry Potter's 6th year, everything is different...
1. Back to Black

Chapter 1: Back to the black  
  
The beating of the torrential rain outside rapped against the glass windows, the only other sound heard beside the pounding feet of Uncle Vernon, as he paced irritably in front of his 15-year-old nephew, Harry Potter.  
  
"You listen boy." Uncle Vernon shot at him, stopping suddenly to glare at Harry through slits in his face where eyes usually lingered. "Your oddities has sent Dudley into hysterics." He growled, running his hands though his moustache. Harry stared blankly back at him. His obvious idea of 'hysterics' was in relation to last years Dementor attack, in which Dudley was almost kissed by the disgusting slimy creature. Harry shivered slightly at the thought. "D'you know what kind of therapy we had to give him to relieve our son of the memory of those stupid dementy-things?" Uncle Vernon asked.  
  
"Well i expect not many. He'd forget his own name if he--" Harry began, but Uncle Vernon's purpling face was shoved into Harry's. "Shut up you! Because of--of you we have these dementy-things floating around!" he yelled, spit flying from his mouth and sliding down Harry's round black-rimmed glasses.  
  
"Oh. I expect everything is my fault then. Well, i can't go anywhere, we've already made that apparent." Harry said. "So your yelling and temper is getting you absolutely nowhere." Harry said coolly, standing up. Uncle Vernon sputtered, obviously having nothing to say back to this. "So, I'll just be in my room then if you don't mind." And with that Harry exited the Kitchen, and with cat-like movement, ascended the stairs, trying to be as silent as possible. He came to the door of Dudley's room, Harry could hear his heavy breathing, and gazing under the gap of the door, could see him lumbering around his room. As his gigantic feet neared the door, Harry slithered away into his own room, and just in time, the door of Dudley's room creaked open, and Dudley exited. Harry's new fetish was spying on Dudley, for some odd reason it has entertained Harry through the first week of returning from Hogwarts. Harry collapsed on his bed without turning on his light, staring up at the darkened ceiling as the rain continued to beat against the window. It was back to the usual gloom. Being stuck at the Dursleys until someone felt fit that he had been tortured enough, and decided to save him. Harry wondered vaguely how long it would be, he hoped at least before his Birthday. He wanted to enjoy his 16th year with someone who wouldn't award him socks or toothpicks for aging another year. Not that he cared about presents; he just wanted someone to talk to, seeing as he had felt so anti-social after Sirius' death. Harry's stomach clenched as his late-godfather passed though his mind. He sighed and gazed over at Hedwigs empty perch. She had been gone for ages, doing what Harry did not know. The raindrops on the window cast odd shadows on the ceiling as drops of water fell to the ground below. Harry watched the progress of one raindrop with his eyes, it was very comfortable on his bed, Harry yawned and drifted off into sleep...  
  
"IT ISN'T GOOD ENOUGH!" The cold voice yelled, as a man, whimpering on the hearthrug in front of a fireplace sank to his knees.  
  
"I tried my lord! Its not my fault!" He whimpered in a squeaky voice, putting his hands over his head.  
  
"Your attempts are failing Wormtail! I'm getting impatient with your incompetence!" Said the voice of Lord Voldemort, although he was not in sight. "My most valuable men...as well as Woman are in Azkaban, and if you can't so such a simple thing as break them out, I don't see why you should be in legents with me anymore." Wormtail whimpered some more, not even daring to look upon his master.  
  
"They--they had new guards, powerful guards..." Wormtail said quietly.  
  
"AND I GAVE YOU POWERFUL MAGIC!" Shouted Voldemort. A beam of white light shot out of a corner, and connected with Wormtail, he screamed and writhed on the floor, sobbing his apology...  
  
Harry sat bolt upright, his hands clutched over his scar, he was breathing quickly, as though he had just been running, his heart was pounding as he gazed around his room. He could have sworn he was there! Voldemort was there! Wormtail was writhing on the floor. Harry held onto the details of his dream, making sure he didn't forget it. Wormtail was trying to break someone out of Azkaban... It clicked in Harry's mind, like a puzzle piece fitting into its proper place in a puzzle. Wormtail was trying to break the people out of Azkaban who had been put there by the Ministry.... Harry though, staring around his now pitch-black room. His stomach ached with hunger, he hadn't eaten anything...usually he would have written to Sirius about his dream, but he wasn't around anymore...Harry's scar didn't hurt anymore, not that he was stranger to pain. It seemed that his scar was bothering him all the time these days, but this time it had been different, his pain accompanied by a dream. He played it over in his head, making sure he could hold onto the details. Harry stood up and made his way blindly over to his desk, he felt for his light and flicked it on. He was temporarily blinded by the sudden burst of brightness, but blinked several times and rubbed his eyes to rid them of sleep. He uncapped a bottle of ink and dipped his quill in it, and began to scribble on his piece of parchment.  
  
Wormtail and Voldemort in a room..Voldemort Angry with Wormtail because he couldn't break Voldemort's lot out of Azkaban, Voldemort has powerful magic, and is thinking of Breaking ranks with Wormtail... Harry looked over what he wrote, and folded the parchment and placed it into his desk drawer, then gazed over at his clock, it was nearly four in the morning, but Harry felt wide awake. Harry half wanted to write a letter to his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, both of whom Harry had not spoken to since their departure from Kings Cross station. But what would he say? It would be pointless to tell them that his scar had been hurting, and how would he describe the dream in a letter?  
  
Dear Don,  
  
My scar's been hurting and i had an odd dream, Voldemort and Wormtail were in it.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Harry  
  
The letter sounded stupid, even in his own head. He would just have to wait until he saw them again, which in his case could be ages... Harry lay back on his bed and placed his glasses on his bedside table, and shut his eyes, trying to drift back off to sleep. But his previous dream was still nagging at him in the back of his head. Would he re-visit this place with Voldemort and Wormtail? Where were Voldemort and Wormtail? Harry rolled over and gazed out his bedroom window, a dull grey sky was just visible through the haze, it seemed that rain was again on the way. Shutting his eyes tight, Harry was finally able to drift off to sleep. This time no dreams of Voldemort came to him, instead he was visited by dreams of Dudley's head, pig-like as it already was, had turned completely into a pink-squealing pig....  
  
"Get up!" Shouted a voice in Harry's ear. Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. His eyes burst open and he rolled over onto his back. Disoriented in the dark, he fell out of his bed and hit the floor with a dull thump.  
  
"Wassamatter?" Harry said, sitting up from his place on the floor. A blurred figure stood in front of him, Harry could just make his black hair and pale face, and a horrible thought crossed his mind.  
  
"Snape?" Harry croaked, reaching for his glasses and placing them on his face. Snape came into sharper view. His greasy black hair fell over his pale face, which was twisted into a look of great dislike. He, for once was not wearing his black robes, but instead was dressed in a black Macintosh and big boots.  
  
"That's Professor Snape to you Potter. I'm still your teacher even if we are out of school. Now get up, we haven't got all day." He snapped. Harry stood up and piled his bed sheets back onto his bed, and slid past Snape to flick on his light. Snape jumped horribly, nearly falling over.  
  
"What was THAT?" Snape Yelled, looking wildly around for the source of the light. Harry smirked,  
  
"That would be a light bulb," he said pointing to the ceiling "It is run off of Electricity." Snape glared at Harry, obviously having nothing knifings to say about this. Harry meanwhile was walking about his room, throwing the items strewn about back into his trunk.  
  
"Can't you move any faster?" Snape said coldly, watching his progress.  
  
"No. I can't. And as you have disinclined to help, I will have to do it by hand." Harry said, not looking at Snape. Harry placed his last book inside of his trunk and closed the lid and locked it. Since he was still in the clothes he had worn the previous day, he wouldn't bother getting dressed.  
  
"There. I'm packed." Harry said shortly. It had suddenly occurred to him that he had never asked Snape why he was standing in Harry's bedroom.  
  
"Why are you here?" Harry blurted out, his brain not fully forming around his question. Snape narrowed his eyes, as if his thought were giving him a bad stomachache.  
  
"I was sent by the order, Potter. And believe me, I have no pleasure in retrieving you. But everyone else was busy this morning, and I was the only one who had an open slot. I don't know why they even want you at Grimmauld place, why they must succumb to your every whim. But I suppose being 'famous Harry Potter' means that everyone must go out of their way to do things for you." Snape said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Felling that his question was sufficiently answered, Harry picked up the end of his trunk and dragged it over to the door.  
  
"I certainly hope the Dursleys know your here." Harry said quietly.  
  
"Of course they do Potter, don't be stupid. But of course, that would be hard for you." Snape said, barring his yellowing teeth. Harry decided to ignore Snape. He felt he was too mature to be put down by petty insults. Harry Dragged his trunk down the hall. Uncle Vernon was standing at the opposite end with his back to him, obviously on the pretext of straightening a picture. But Harry recalled that the picture hanging there had been nailed to the wall to ensure it would not move, and unless Harry was mistaken, it took mere minutes to straighten pictures, and Harry was sure that Uncle Vernon had been standing there for a long time. Snape strode behind him, looking around the hall as if he were highly interested. Uncle Vernon turned as if he had just noticed someone was behind him.  
  
"You can let yourself out..." He muttered, turning back to the picture.  
  
"I will be sure to." Snape said. Harry turned the corner and dragged his trunk down the stairs, the trunk made an odd thump as it fell on each individual step. Over the sound of the trunk, Harry could hear an odd scuffling noise coming from the next room, upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, the source of this noise became apparent. It seemed that Dudley was flitting around trying to avoid Snape. And frankly, Harry didn't blame him for doing so. Snape came down the stairs after him and swept past him to the door.  
  
"How are we going?" Harry asked him, sweating slightly, his back aching from hulling his heavy trunk down a flight of stairs.  
  
"Port key. That's why you must MOVE." Snape snapped, striding over and grabbing the opposite and of Harry's trunk and pulling it towards the door for him.  
  
"There. You make everything so difficult don't you?" Snape said coldly shoving his trunk out the door onto the rain-soaked front walk. Harry chose to remain silent; he was still contemplating how they were going to travel by portkey in a populated neighbourhood. Snape disappeared out the front door, and re-appeared a moment later holding a bottle of what seemed to be Ogden's old Firewhisky.  
  
"Come on its a wonder how you ever make it to class on time. If you don't get over here right now, I'll leave without you without loosing any sleep over it!" Snape called to him. Harry strode irritably over to him.  
  
"Out here..." Snape said turning and walking out into the front garden. It was still pouring outside. Harry grabbed the end of his trunk and pulled it out next to Snape, wishing he 'd thought to put on a coat. Snapped held out the heck of the bottle to him, and Harry put his index finger on it, while still holing onto his trunk. They both stood, being soaked to bone by the pounding rain, Harry realised how stupid it would look if someone were to catch site of them. A boy and a Man standing in the middle of someone's front garden holding a bottle. One minute past, then another.  
  
"Are you sure you set it up right?" Harry asked, shivering so violently that he was having a hard time holding onto the bottle.  
  
"Yes of course I did Potter!" Snape Snarled, his teeth chattering. Suddenly, Harry felt a sudden thrust somewhere about his naval, he was being yanked backwards, and his hand seemed to be stuck to the bottle. He could see Snape standing in front of him, his eye shuts tight, they were flying backwards at a dizzyingly fast speed, as sudden as it can come, it stopped. Harry fell hard on his back, rain poured onto his face spattering his glasses.  
  
"Number Four Grimmauld Place." Snape's voice recited off to Harry's left. Harry couldn't help but grin although he had just been thrown headfirst into the mud. He was back at the Black family home. 


	2. Re meetings and Re tellings

Chapter 2: re-meetings and re-tellings  
  
The entrance hall of Grimmauld place was completely silent, and much neater since the last time Harry had been here. Snape had disappeared, muttering something about a meeting. It seemed that Harry was alone in this place until either Hermione or Ron showed up. Harry dragged his trunk to the room he had occupied previously; he opened the door and found that it was already occupied. A small, brown-haired girl sat in the middle of the floor, and seemed to be conversing with the painting placed between two four poster beds.  
"Heh. You must have been a horrible head if they did THAT to you." She was saying, laughing appreciatively.  
"Excuse me! It is not for you to make that assessment! Those students were unruly and highly disrespectful!" Phinus Nigelus yelled back to her.  
"Well...I wonder why they were.." The girl said, still giggling. Harry dropped his trunk on the floor staring at the girl. She turned around in surprise.  
"Oh! Hello, you must be Harry!" She said politely, completely disregarding Finnius' continued sputtering. Harry raised his eyebrows slightly, usually people were quite certain it was he, they never had to make any assessment.  
"Err...yea..." He said. The girl stood up from her place on the floor, she was quite short, coming only to Harry's chin. Her hair was dark brown, and had a red streak that hang over her delicate face. She wore brown, square-rimmed glasses that hid stunning blue eyes. Her clothes were very peculiar, her black baggy shirt seemed to be borrowed from someone that was much larger then she was, and her khaki pants with several cargo pockets also seemed rather large for her short stature. To top it off, she wore many necklaces and bracelets with lethal looking spikes on them. She sidled over to Harry and produced her hand for Harry to shake.  
"Hello! I'm Aggie Kuioph." She said in an almost business-like way. Harry shook her hand awkwardly.  
"Is this room...err...occupied?" Harry said, looking around.  
"Oh, no. I just come in here to talk to him." The girl called Aggie said pointing to the painting on the opposite wall. "I suppose you would want proper explanation of who I am? Well...I'm a 3rd year Hufflepuff. So, that's probably why you haven't ever seen me before. I'm a friend of Tonks. Her neighbour really, me mum and dad went off to somewhere in Africa, their both archaeologists. She promised to watch me." Aggie said this all very quickly.  
"Ok then..." Said Harry, not the least bit interested.  
"Well...I'll leave you to it then. I s'ppose the order is about done their meetings..." Aggie said, drifting pass Harry and closing the door as she left. Harry looked around the room, for some reason he was depressed. The painting was silent now. Harry walked over and collapsed on a bed, and stared up at the canvass of the four-poster bed. His mind, as it so often did, dwelled on Sirius' last living moments. His screams of pain, the look of sheer horror on his face as he had fallen through the archway... Harry hastily wiped his eyes, as tears had formed there. He would have hated for Ron or Hermione to see him like this. Harry rolled over onto his stomach and sniffed slightly. The loss of his godfather weighed so heavily on his heart, he couldn't bare to think about it...  
  
The door of the bedroom opened.  
"Harry! Dinner!" Said Aggie's voice, cheerfully. Harry lay silent. He didn't want to go down to dinner. "Er...sleeping? I'll tell Mrs. Weasley to save something for you then." She said, closing the door as she left. Harry rubbed his eyes. He seemed to have fallen asleep. His stomach rumbled loudly, he hadn't eaten in ages. Harry stood up, ran his fingers irritable through his hair, and walked down to the kitchen. There he found, not only Mrs. Weasley, but also what seemed to be all of the Order. A very ashen- faced Mundungus Fletcher sat next to Fred and George Weasley, who were both wearing one of their headless hats. Mad-eye-moody was watching both of them with both his eyes, his expression very curious, yet suspicious. Tonks was squeezed in between Aggie and Ginny, who were both awing over her new choice of hair colour, rainbow. To Harry's immense surprise, and disgust, Albus Dumbledore was sitting beside a very irritated looking Snape. Harry's eyes roved around the table as every face turned towards him.  
"Where's Ron and Hermione?" were the first words out of his mouth.  
"Harry dear! Decided to come down then? Ron and Hermione? I haven't seen them in awhile..." Mrs. Weasley said, grinning and presenting Harry with a plate of rolls. Harry took one and sat down, slightly hurt that Ron and Hermione weren't even going to bother to say hello to him. Every person at the table (except for Snape) greeted Harry enthusiastically. The dinner was very enjoyable, and Harry half forgot about Ron and Hermione, Fred and George entertained everyone with their Face changing charms, which produced an array of impressions of various people around the table. Snape, it seemed, was not too impressed with his impression. After dinner had ended, and Mrs. Weasley had presented desert, everyone said their goodbyes and either disappeared upstairs, or disapperated. The only people left was Aggie and Tonks, who were helping clean up. Harry was about to go upstairs when he heard two pairs of approaching feet from behind him. He turned and found Ron and Hermione standing in the doorway.  
"Ron! Hermione!" Harry said, dropping the plate back on the table. "Why didn't you come down to dinner?" Harry asked. They both stared at him with an odd expression, as if he had walked in on something they were doing.  
"Wasn't hungry." Said Ron shortly.  
"Oh...Er...ok. So, where were you?"  
"No where. Just around." Said Hermione. Harry stared at them, his eyebrows raised.  
"Something wrong?" Harry inquired, slightly concerned.  
"No. We Er...Kind of tired. See you tomorrow Harry." Said Ron turning back towards the door. Harry walked up behind him and grabbed his arm.  
"Hey wait! Do—"  
"Get off me!" Ron said, pulling his arm sharply out of Harry's grasp, glaring at him.  
"What's up? You're acting kind of odd." Harry said, taking a step back.  
"There's nothing wrong, Ok? Just leave us alone!" Ron said angrily, stomping away.  
"Us? Hermione? What's..." Harry began. Hermione too glared at him and walked after Ron. Harry was taken aback. What had he done to deserve this kind of treatment? He felt rather put down. He stood there, staring after their retreating backs.  
"Acting odd aren't they? I thought so too..." Said Aggie's voice from behind him.  
"Yea...I mean...the—They've never acted like this before." Harry said, he was slightly hurt by his friends behaviour. Perhaps it was just because they were tired. Harry would try again in the morning...yes that had to be it.  
  
The next morning dawned, and Harry went down to breakfast, sleepy, yet happy that he was anywhere else but the Dursleys. He spotted Ron sitting alone at the end of the table and walked over to sit next to him.  
"Hello Ron." Said Harry, reaching for a piece of toast.  
"Oh. That seat is saved. Sorry." Said Ron without even looking at him. He certainly did not sound sorry. Harry, feeling irritable now of Ron's ignorant behaviour, did not move.  
"Ron! What's the matter with you? You're acting as though I'm Malfoy or something! I'm Harry, your best friend!" Harry reminded him.  
"Yea? Well maybe I don't want to be best friends with you!" Ron snarled, glaring at Harry as though he were a particularly large pile of dung. Harry was taken aback by this sudden abandonment of friendship.  
"Ron. Is he bothering you again?' came Hermione's voice from behind him.  
"No Hermione, its ok. He was just leaving." Said Ron grudgingly. Harry stood up and threw the piece of toast at Ron, with all the strength he could muster, then stomped away to the end of the table, where he took a seat beside Ginny.  
"What's wrong?" Ginny asked, sipping her tea.  
"Oh. So I suppose your talking to me?" Harry said coldly.  
"Sorry for being concerned!" Ginny snapped. Standing up.  
"Ginny, don't...I'm sorry. Its just, Ron and Hermione—"  
"Are acting like complete idiots." Ginny finished for him, glaring down at the duo, who seemed to be arguing over the state of Ron's hair.  
"What's up with them?" Harry asked, watching them closely with narrowed eyes.  
"Well. It all started right after school let out." Ginny said, looking back at Harry. "Hermione came just a week after, and she was acting...well, she was acting downright rude. She stomped in an insulted everything in sight. Mum was in a right state, sobbing her eyes out over how insulted she was. Ron was acting normal before she came. Then, over the night, he was acting the same way. Being insulting to everyone and everything. He refused to get along with anyone. He even fought with Hermione, I mean more than usual that is. They would get in terrible rows over stupid things, shake the whole first floor so that mum would have dust all in her hair." Ginny said, staring off into space.  
"Hm..." Harry said. Staring down at the pair who were quarrelling over how much tea Ron had in his cup.  
"Maybe Voldemort has something to do with it..." Harry muttered. Ginny flinched horribly, throwing boiling water and tea leaves all over the table.  
"Y-you know who? I doubt it...He has much more important things to do then make two teenagers fight all the time." Ginny said, clearing up the mess with a towel.  
"Yea...I suppose your right..." Harry said, standing up. "I'm going to look around—maybe I can find something." Harry half-whispered. Glancing down at Ron and Hermione again. Ginny gave him a thin lipped smile and nodded. Ascending the stairs in an almost spy-like fashion, Harry came to the door of Hermione's lodging. He pushed the door open, an odd smell of what seemed to be mint and parsley drifted out of the room. Pinching his nose, Harry walked inside. The room was dark, and although it was mid summer, had a chill to it that no other room held. Her large four poster bed was neatly made, and on the table beside it was the source of the parsley-mint smell was made apparent; A candle was burning. Harry picked it up to use as a light source, as he pinched his nose with one hand, and held the candle with the other. The flickering light fell onto the bed, throwing it into sharper detail. Amongst the folded covers and pillows, there was a small book, clumsily hidden inside one of the pillows. Harry un-pinched his nose and reached for the book, his good manners that this might be something private getting the better of him. Slowly he unearthed the book from the pillow, being sure not to make it seem as though someone had been there, he almost had it out—  
"HARRY!" Yelled a voice from behind him. Harry dropped the book and spun around. Hermione was standing in the doorway, her face twisted into a look of pure hate. Ron lurked sulkily behind her, also glaring at Harry. "YOU—OUT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?" Hermione snarled, walking up and snatching the candle in the book out of Harry's hand, but not before Harry caught a glimpse of the front cover— "I said GET OUT! This is my private business!" Hermione shouted at him, pointing towards the door. Harry, turned without speaking and stalked out, passing Ron without even looking at him. Ron walked inside the room and slammed the door so hard, dust fell from the ceiling. 


End file.
